


Kindergarten to Bathroom Blow Jobs

by clairvoyantPeach



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Bullying, But Baekhyun Kinda Deserves it, Byun Baekhyun is a Little Shit, Chanyeol's a Music Major, Childhood Friends, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Established Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Jongin | Kai, First Love, M/M, Park Chanyeol Being an Asshole, Recreational Drug Use, future smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2019-11-09 04:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17995274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairvoyantPeach/pseuds/clairvoyantPeach
Summary: Baekhyun used to pick on Chanyeol as a kid then sucks his dick at a club.Chaos ensues





	1. On His Knees

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any typos. No beta and I'm too lazy to reread stuff after I write it lol. Feel free to point them out and i'll fix 'em

Chanyeol sat alone in the back of class with his fists filled with play doh; he was trying to make his cat. It wasn’t working the way he wanted it to. The only colors were blue and green, some kid had eaten all the orange last Tuesday, and he needed orange.

“That’s ugly.” A sweet voice said and Chanyeol looked up to see the cutest boy he had ever seen with his hand on his hip, one tiny finger pointed at the sad mush on Chanyeol’s table. His hair was soft and black and his eyes were big and sparkly. He looked like the puppy Chanyeol’s sister had brought home a few weeks ago. There was a purple nametag on his shirt that said, “Hi my name is Baekhyun,” written poorly in green marker.

“I know. There wasn’t any orange,” Chanyeol said, puffing his cheeks out and pouting.

“Even if it was orange it’d still be ugly,” Baekhyun said as he plopped down in the chair next to Chanyeol and grabbed the clay out of his hands.

That was the first time Chanyeol had met Byun Baekhyun, and as he watched the other boy smooth the clay into a pretty good elephant, he was star-struck. Baekhyun was new to class, even though summer was going to start soon, and he sat with Chanyeol every day.

Baekhyun was quick to become Chanyeol’s best friend. He’d only steal his glasses every once in a while, and he’d always give them before the end of the day. He was sweet even if Chanyeol’s mom thought he was too snarky for a 6-year-old.

Over the summer they played together all the time. Baekhyun was Chanyeol’s only friend as all the other kids made fun if him and called him fat. Baekhyun never called Chanyeol fat. As elementary school went on Baekhyun made more friends, little boys who’d listen to anything he said and little girls that thought he was cute, but he never left Chanyeol’s side. Baekhyun still came over for cookies and pillow forts every Saturday.

In 6th grade Baekhyun started to act differently. He walked with his nose high in the air and his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He stopped coming over to Chanyeol’s house and started taking his glasses more often. He didn’t always give them back at the end of the day, and one time he left them at the top of the jungle gym. Chanyeol came home crying, and Baekhyun had gotten detention after Chanyeol’s mom called the school.

The summer before middle school Chanyeol had only seen Baekhyun once. On the first day of middle school he saved Baekhyun next to him at the back of class, but when he walked in with a new crowd of boys, he hadn’t spared Chanyeol a glance.

That’s when the bullying started.

Chanyeol had been picked on before, teased about his weight, glasses, or big ears, but he’d always been somewhat under Baekhyun’s protection. Yet, suddenly, it was that boy who was shoving him into walls as he walked by, filling his gym shoes with rocks, and pouring water on his homework. Chanyeol was back to being the friendless, fat kid.

He found Sehun towards the end of 8th grade. Chanyeol had been eating lunch outside by himself, it was too cold for the others to want to come out (including Baekhyun), when he’d heard crying.

Back behind the sports shed Sehun was crouched with the heels of his palms pressed into his eyes. He was sobbing. Giant tears fell down his cheeks and mixed with snot.

“Hey,” Chanyeol said, Sehun froze. “Are you okay?”

The kid peeked out from behind his fingers, and must not have been intimidated by Chanyeol (not that a lot of people are) because he wiped his face, shrugging. Chanyeol sat down next to him and pulled him into a tight hug. He’d been taught growing up that hugs could solve any problem. He wasn’t 100% sure about that, but he figured he’d give it a try.

They stayed like that for a minute, Sehun sucking up his tears and sobs softening to hiccups.

“Are you going to laugh at me?” The kid pulled back, looking at Chanyeol with wet eyes and a heavy bottom lip.

Chanyeol leaned back and pointed at himself with a raised brow. “Do I look like a person who’d laugh at you?”

The kid bit his lip, but shook his head.

“Exactly, what happened?”

“Some kid called me a faggot,” Sehun whispered. This outraged Chanyeol.

“They have no right to use that word,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, and they only did it cause I have a cat folder,” Sehun said. They both paused. Chanyeol looked at Sehun, and Sehun looked at him. They burst into laughter.

“My best friend calls me Piggy.” Chanyeol admitted when he could breathe again.

“Kids suck.”

“Yeah. They do.”

The bell rang. They had ten minutes to get to their next class.

“I’m Sehun, by the way.”

“Chanyeol.”

They started sitting together at lunch. It didn’t take long for Baekhyun and his goons to notice, and they sauntered over with sneers on their faces.

“Hey, Piggy.” Sehun shot Chanyeol a look that he ignored.

“This your boyfriend?” Baekhyun was leaning over the table, both hand pressed flat into the metal. His face was close to Sehun’s as he stared him down. Chanyeol sighed, but didn’t look up from his lunchbox.

“No, Baek. He’s my _friend._ ” Baekhyun snapped his head to Chanyeol, Sehun leaning back and letting out a breath.

“Don’t call me that,” he said with venom. Then, the frown was off his face and he was smirking like a cat. “It sure looks like you guys are dating,” he said winking at his friends behind him.

“Yeah, a couple of fags sitting in a tree,” called one of the bullies. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” the rest finished. Baekhyun let out a bark of laughter before grabbing Chanyeol’s carton of milk and pouring it into his lunchbox.

“See ya, losers,” Baekhyun said, crumpling the carton and walking away. Chanyeol stared at the food his mom had lovingly prepared bob up and down in a sea of milk, and sighed again. Guess he wasn’t hungry anymore.

Sehun leapt up as soon as Baekhyun was out of sight. “Dude, what the hell was that? Has he always been that horrible to you?”

“No. Yes? I dunno. He’s usually mean, but today he seemed different.”

Sehun raised a brow.

“He seemed,” Chanyeol started, he glanced at his old friend laughing across the cafeteria. “…angrier?”

“Maybe he’s jealous that I get to hang out with you and he doesn’t,” Sehun said with a smile and an elbow to Chanyeol’s ribs. He didn’t reply.

Leaving middle school was a conflicting time for Chanyeol. He’d managed to convive his mom to let him transfer to an art school so he could finally, really, learn music. She caved when he mentioned leaving old bullies behind. Sehun still had another year left before he could enroll at Seoul’s Academy of Preforming Arts too. Chanyeol was excited. Scared, but in a good way. Yet, he still had an uncomfortable pit in his stomach when he thought about leaving Baekhyun.

 

The last day of classes before summer was an annual water gun fight. When the sky rose higher in the sky the teachers started passing out water guns, Chanyeol had volunteered for the first shift of filling duty. He got to watch the battle from the sidelines, occasionally refilling kids’ water guns when they’d run out of ammo.

He was sitting alone, the girl helping him had gone to the restroom, when his view of Sehun was blocked by a pair of bright red shorts. Baekhyun towered over him holding out two empty guns. Chanyeol stared. Baekhyun’s foot started tapping (he’d never been very patient).

“Well? Are you going to fill them?” Chanyeol snapped his head down and Baekhyun shoved the guns into his lap.

“You’re not supposed to have two guns,” Chanyeol said softly. Baekhyun scoffed.

“Whatever. What are you going to do? Tell on me?”

Chanyeol shook his head and handed the first one back. “No.”

Baekhyun seemed stunned for a moment, but shook it off and replaced with a sneer. Chanyeol handed back the second one, but Baekhyun didn’t move.

“What?” Chanyeol asked. Baekhyun stayed quiet and bit his lip. By the time he answered Chanyeol had filled two more water guns.

“See you next year, loser?”

“No, you won’t,” Chanyeol said, looking Baekhyun in the eyes. “I’m transferring, not that you care.”

“Whatever, piggy!” Baekhyun’s face twisted in anger, and he sprayed Chanyeol in the face. He turned and stomped back into the chaos of middle schoolers and water.

Chanyeol’s cheeks burned, he picked up a spare gun to join Sehun on the field. Screw Byun Baekhyun.

 

High school had been a great time for Chanyeol. He’d grown a good foot, gotten contacts, and honed his passion for music. His voice had dropped to something deep and sultry that had girls and boys falling for him, which he really enjoyed. Sehun and he became roommates at Seoul University, and he is now two years into his music production degree.

“Chanyeol, are you ready yet?” Sehun says through the door of the bathroom.

“Almost.” Chanyeol responds, and finishes fixing his hair. He whistles at his reflection.

“Stop checking yourself out, idiot. I want to go.”

Chanyeol opens the door and winks at his best friend. “You can’t deny it though, I look hot.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get your keys,” Sehun says and leans down to tighten the laces of his vans.

“I can’t believe you’ve wearing those to the club,” Chanyeol says wrinkling his nose at the shoes and pulls on his jacket.

“I go to dance, not impress all the chicks with my footwear.” Sehun raises an eyebrow. “You’re being incredibly critical tonight, bud.”

“What can I say? I have a good feeling about tonight, plus,” Chanyeol touches a hand to his heart and with complete sincerity says, “I just want you to get laid already.”

Sehun aims a punch at him, but Chanyeol slips out of the dorm and down the stairs before he can.

 

Chanyeol parks a couple blocks away from the club, but they can still feel the pounding of the bass in their bones. They light up a joint in the back of Chanyeol’s shitty van. He’d bought it to haul all his music equipment, but he didn’t expect the bright orange paint job. A few hits in and Chanyeol was feeling pleasantly dizzy, just enough a buzz to have fun but still be sober by the end of the night.

“You ready, big guy?” Sehun asks, patting Chanyeol’s shoulder. Chanyeol nods and slides the side door open.

Inside the club is like another universe. The entire building is bathed in purple and blue lights and the volume of the music has Chanyeol feeling as if he’s underwater. The crowd is thick. A giant mass of boys in tight pants and girls in high, high heels grinding and writhing against each other. They slip over to the bar to greet Minseok as he mixes drinks.

“Hey, kiddos,” their friend smiles and slides two shots of tequila over to them. Chanyeol shakes his head and Sehun downs both.

“Can’t. I’m driving,” he says. Minseok rolls his eyes.

“I can smell the weed on you, dude.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says leaning in close to the bartender. “I’ll be good by the time we leave.”

Chanyeol laughs as Sehun pulls him to the dancefloor, Minseok waving at them. Chanyeol’s face is starting to hurt from the giant smile squishing his cheeks. It’s hot and sweaty in the middle of the crowd, but as a girl in a slinky, gold dress presses back into his hips he can’t bring himself to care. His brain is swimming through the music, and he can’t see Sehun anymore. Well, he might be over there, but there are lots of guys with blond hair here.

The beat consumes his soul. He knows his arms are a little too jerky and his shoulders are stiff, but he dances anyways. A couple songs in he vaguely registers another body pressing against his till the girl leaves to dance with someone else. Soft hands guide his to a flat stomach and sharp hipbones. He cracks open an eye to see a short male in leather pants grinding down on him. He looks like the type that would fall apart under Chanyeol, at least from behind but isn’t that all that matters? They dance together long enough for Chanyeol’s buzz to start dying a little bit.

The guy’s a lot better at moving than Chanyeol. The way he drops his hips and drags them back up -slowly, yet still to the beat- has Chanyeol’s mouth watering. He tightens his grip on the man, and pulls him closer. He can feel him gasp, and sees him look over his shoulder. The lighting isn’t great so Chanyeol can only make out the man’s button nose and soft lips. The other must like what he sees as he’s turning in Chanyeol’s grip to pull him into a bruising kiss. Chanyeol can taste whiskey and cigarettes on the man’s tongue. Chanyeol dives down to place hot kisses on the shorter’s neck and jaw, and the man digs his nails into Chanyeol’s shoulders. In this moment Chanyeol thinks he’s never been more turned on. While he’s done the hook up thing plenty of times it’s usually at the end of the night, and when he’s not designated driver.

 He continues to kiss the man, but it seems he has other ideas as he pulls Chanyeol in the direction of the bathrooms. As Chanyeol’s pushed into the empty handicap toilet he thinks distantly of how he still hasn’t really seen the man’s face. Then he’s being kissed again and he forgets about it.

“Fuck,” Chanyeol says between kisses. The man drags his mouth down to Chanyeol’s neck and sucks a dark bruise there before pulling his mouth off with a pop.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” the man purrs into Chanyeol’s collar bone. His voice is slightly husky from smoking, but still silky. The sound of it sends a shiver down Chanyeol’s spine.

Chanyeol drags a hand through his hair before the man is dropping to his knees in front of him. A low moan crawls out of Chanyeol’s throat as his black jeans are unbuttoned and his underwear pulled down. The man wraps a hand lightly at the base of Chanyeol’s dick and gives the underside a rough lick.

“Shit.” Chanyeol bites his lip and pulls the man’s chin up to face him.

He’s still high, and it takes a moment for his blood to run cold. The club music feels way to loud and claustrophobic. Suddenly, what felt like a warm ocean is now filling his lungs and drowning him. Chanyeol blinks the haze out of his eyes. He wants to puke.

Kneeling on the floor, breath hot on his dick is Byun Baekhyun. He’s wearing blue contacts and smoky eyeliner, but Chanyeol could never forget that face.

“Oh, fuck no,” he says and Baekhyun looks worried. His brows are pinched and his lips are swollen.

“Wha-what?” he asks and pulls his hand off Chanyeol’s dick.

“No way. Not doing that.” Chanyeol stuffs himself back into his pants and zips them up. Baekhyun looks thoroughly shaken.

“Wait, wait,” he says grabbing Chanyeol’s arm as he leaves the toilet. Chanyeol looks to the ceiling in a silent prayer for something to save him. “What did I do?”

“Oh, piss off,” Chanyeol says, yanking his arm out of Baekhyun’s grip. He stomps out to the crowd determined to find Sehun and get the hell out of here.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Baekhyun’s following him across the club. He’d obviously never been rejected like this before. The thought made Chanyeol’s stomach drop. He sees Sehun at the bar leaning on someone he hopes is a friend. Minseok sees him and waves him over.

“We’re leaving,” Chanyeol says, tugging on Sehun’s hand.

“Why?” Jongin asks and Chanyeol gives him a half-hearted greeting.

“Doesn’t matter, let’s go.”

“Hey,” Baekhyun crowds Chanyeol into the bar and Sehun looks at him funny. He presses up to Chanyeol’s front and he can feel Baekhyun’s hard-on through his pants. “You can’t just up and ditch me like that. At least not without an explanation.”

“Baekhyun?” Sehun asks from where he’s leaning into Jongin’s side. Baekhyun turns to him, and has the decency to look bashful. Chanyeol doesn’t think he’s ever seen that expression on his face, and it makes his heart stutter. Recognition flashes in Baekhyun’s eyes, the way it didn’t with Chanyeol.

“Sehun? Oh Sehun?”

Sehun looks quickly between him and Chanyeol before muttering, “Shit.”

“You guys know Baekhyun?” Minseok asks, popping up behind Chanyeol, who jumps.

“Uh, yeah. We went to middle school together,” Sehun answers.

Minseok turns to Chanyeol who’s avoiding eye contact with everyone, staring off into the wriggling bodies behind Baekhyun. Baekhyun giggles awkwardly.

“Yeah, I’m afraid I was a bit of an ass back then,” he says and Chanyeol sees red.

“A _bit_ of an ass?” he repeats, his teeth grinding. Jongin squeaks at the sound, Sehun groans, and Baekhyun looks lost.

“Uh, yeah? Do you have a problem?” Baekhyun asks and his concern almost sounds genuine. A little bug in the back of Chanyeol’s head wants to believe it is. He squashes it.

“You know what?” Chanyeol leans in close to Baekhyun, ghosting his lips over the other’s. “Forget it.”

He turns on his heel and pushes his way out of the club. Sehun groans and slams money on the bar.

“I’m too drunk for this. Chanyeol,” he yells after his roommate, running after him. Baekhyun pales and turns slowly to Minseok and Jongin, both looking _very_ confused.

“Did he say Chanyeol?”

 

“Chanyeol,” Sehun calls into the cool night air. He’d lost his best friend on the way out of the club, and god he’s too drunk for this. He doesn’t look for long though as he rounds the corner onto the street they’d parked the van and Chanyeol’s sitting on the curb, his head resting on his knees.

“There you are. God, I thought you’d straight up dipped,” Sehun says lowering himself to the concrete. Chanyeol doesn’t move his face from where it’s pressed to his jeans.

“I was going to, but I had to wait for you,” Chanyeol says, voice muffled. Sehun smiles and leans into Chanyeol’s shoulder.

“Thanks buddy. I could’ve gotten a ride with Jongin or Minseok, though.”

Chanyeol lifts his head and glares at his best friend. “Shut up, I wouldn’t leave you.”

“Alright, alright,” Sehun says lifting his hands in surrender. “You’re the bestest best buddy in the world, I get it.”

The air is still thrumming with club music, but the two of them are silent. Neither really know what to say.

“Well, tonight was fucking weird,” Chanyeol says finally. Sehun looks at him and he looks at Sehun. They burst into laughter.

“I think we both need to get home and sleep. This is too strange for me to process right now,” Sehun says. He pulls himself to his feet and offers his hand to Chanyeol.

“Good idea, I honestly don’t know if I’ll even be able to process this. He licked my dick, dude.” Chanyeol sighs and they walk side by side to his van.

“Wow.”

“I know.”


	2. Let Me Fuck You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baekhyun's night after Chanyeol leaves and the morning after. Jongdae appears and Jongin reappears. Much talk of past feelings and present dick-sucking tendencies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait~ It's a little bit shorter of a chapter this time around. Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> xoxo

Baekhyun is confused, and horny, but mostly confused. The beat in the club is slower now, sensual. For Baekhyun it’s awkward, out of place with his pounding heart. His palms are sweaty. The shots of whiskey that used to be warm in his belly are settling like lead. A hazy memory of the summer day he last saw his childhood best friend comes back to him, and he cringes. 

He isn’t processing well. It’s not helping that he’s still hard. His leather pants are sexy, but they do nothing to hide the raging boner he has. Minseok and Jongin look at each other then back at Baekhyun.

“Chanyeol? As in Park Chanyeol?” He asks, finally. After Minseok had confirmed what Sehun had called the guy (who’s dick he had in his mouth) Baekhyun needed solid minute of silence to process. Last thing he did to the boy was spray him in the face with a water gun, pissed he was switching schools. Not that Baekhyun could blame him. He’d made his life a living hell.

“Yeah, that’s him. Did he go to middle school with you too?” Minseok asks rubbing a few glasses dry with a towel. Jongin swirls on his stool to stare at Baekhyun like he was going to reveal his deepest, darkest secret. In a way, maybe he was.

“Uhm, he did.” Baekhyun pinches the bridge of his nose, years of sweet smiles and dumb games of pretend flash through his mind. The corners of his lips raise, but drop when the memories fill with confusion, anger, and tears. “We’ve actually known each other since kindergarten.”

“Oh, wow,” Jongin says, but still looks confused. “But then what’s with, uh, all of that?”

“Well put,” Minseok says.

“I wasn’t the nicest to him.” Baekhyun leans on the bar, picking at his chipped, black nail polish. “We used to be really close when we were little, but I kind of, maybe, bullied him, a little?”

His boner’s been killed, thank god, but he’s still so confused. Chanyeol was so different. He looked so different. The small, chubby kid with glasses was gone. He’d never have thought the giant he’d crossed the dance floor to grind on would be his childhood friend, or that his childhood friend had grown up that gorgeous. Forget the boner being dead. Baekhyun’s going to need some serious therapy after he jacks it tonight in the shower.

“Dude,” Jongin says, he looks disappointed mom. Baekhyun throws up his hands.

“I had a giant, gay crush on him. Not everyone processed their sexuality in a healthy manner, Jongin!”

Minseok looks like he wants to say something, but is called away by a customer. Baekhyun and Jongin stand in silence as they watch him mix some cocktails for a couple of blondes. 

“So, you ruined his childhood because you wanted to suck his dick then you sucked his dick.” Minseok says as soon as he’s back in front of them. Baekhyun sputters. He opens his mouth to protest, but Minseok isn’t wrong. It snaps shut.

“In my defense I didn’t recognize him,” Baekhyun says. Though, Baekhyun’s not sure he would’ve stopped if he did. Puberty treated Chanyeol a little too well. He hates how he can’t stop thinking about it either. His face is burning.

“I don’t know what to say to you, kid.”

“What are you going to do?” Jongin asks, fluttering his stupidly cute eyes. Baekhyun squints at him; why are all his friends cute? Well, besides Jongdae. Which is why he’s Baekhyun’s usual wingman, but he was too busy tonight. Maybe if he was here this wouldn’t have happened. They would’ve danced with different people. He would’ve actually gotten off in the bathroom.

“Why do anything?” 

“Well, don’t you have a ‘giant, gay crush’ on him,” Minseok says, it isn’t a question.

“I resent those implied quotes, and I said used to have a crush, back when I was still, like, thirteen.”

“Maybe you should apologize? I can give you his number,” Jongin says. He’s too invested in Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s non-existent relationship already. Baekhyun needs Jongdae’s uncaring, sarcastic ass now, please.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Jongin, c’mon, we came here to dance.” Baekhyun decides it’s time to swerve out of this conversation and pops his hips to the beat. He grabs his friend’s hands and pulls him away from the bar, away from Minseok, and away from any thoughts of Chanyeol.

Back in the rush of bodies and sweat and movement Baekhyun can finally breathe. Dancing is all he is right now. Fluidity. Rhythm. Energy. Maybe he’ll take Jongin up on his offer. Get Chanyeol’s number, treat him to coffee, apologize, set the world back into motion, but right now? Right now, he just wants to dance. The lights are brighter on the dance floor, and even with his eyes closed all he sees is purple and blue. 

 

The night ended. Jongin dropped him off at his dorm before going back downstairs to his own. Baekhyun had fallen into bed with his pants still on and skin still hot. The morning after clubbing never feels as good as the night before. This time it wasn’t because of the hangover, Baekhyun had barely had anything to drink. No, the worst part of waking up after a night out is the lack of feeling. The music is still drumming in the back of Baekhyun’s mind, his limbs itch to keep moving, to dance for an eternity.

“Baekhyun.” A voice breaks past Baekhyun’s half-asleep haze. He groans and tries to push whomever, whatever, away from him. It’s the weekend. Too early. 

“Baekhyun, get up.” It’s Jongdae. His roommate and self-proclaimed best friend, though he’s not wrong, Baekhyun just doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction. He sounded annoyed, though that’s not unusual. 

“Seriously, Baek. I heard shit went down last night, and you know I don’t like being out of the loop.” His voice is high and holding onto the vowels longer than it should. 

“I hate you. Let me sleep,” Baekhyun says, burrowing more into the pillows. The more he starts to wake up the more he notices how uncomfortable he actually is. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Jongin told me it was something about a guy from your past?” It’s gross how Baekhyun can hear the eyebrow-waggle in Jongdae’s voice. 

At first Baekhyun genuinely doesn’t know what Jongdae’s talking about, but as he lifts his head to look at his friend, the friend with the permanent shit-eating grin, the night slowly filters back to him. Pulsing purples and blues cover most of his memories like a crappy Instagram filter, but Chanyeol’s clear in each one. Handsome, tall, buff. The heat of his dick in Baekhyun’s hand, mouth. The anger in his eyes, pushing Baekhyun away. Baekhyun’s devastation at being rejected, before and after finding out his name. 

Jongin and his stupidly honest personality and no understanding of personal boundaries is going to be the death of Baekhyun one day. Or Jongdae, depending on how Baekhyun cracks. Baekhyun slams his face back into his pillows and lets out a strangled yell.

“Yikes,” Jongdae says, there’s no sympathy in his voice. “Now you’ve got to tell me.”

“Fine. After I shower and change.” Baekhyun drags himself into a sitting position, cracks his back, and jumps off his bed. Jongdae’s complains, loudly, the entire time Baekhyun’s getting ready. It’s satisfying how pitiful his best friend sounds. 

The only times Jongdae seems to shut up are when Baekhyun has gossip. The man gives his full attention, arms crossed on the back of his desk chair as he straddles it to look at his roommate. Baekhyun goes through the night: Jongdae skipping out on their weekly Saturday club night, Jongin offering to come along, the whiskey shots they did together, the cigarette he smoked with a slim-faced blond, ditching said blond to dance on a beautiful, tall man, pulling said man into the bathroom, only to find out it’s his childhood friend after having his dick in his mouth, Chanyeol storming out, Baekhyun and Jongin dancing till the club lights came on and Minseok offered to drive them home.

“Why last night, of all nights, did I actually do my homework early,” Jongdae whines. He stomps his feet like a child, and Baekhyun rolls his eyes.

“I’m sorry you missed all the action. Now, will you at least pretend to help me?”

“Fine, but I’m never leaving your side ever again,” Jongdae says, crossing his arms with a determined pinch to his brows. “The good shit always happens to you. Well, not good-good, but juicy good.”

“Dude,” Baekhyun says, pouting. “You’re a dick.”

“You love me.” Jongdae whips out his phone typing furiously. “And you’ll be thanking me soon enough.”

“What? Why? Dae, what are you doing?” Baekhyun asks, leaping off the bed to grab his friend’s phone. He’s too late as Jongdae locks it and lets it fall from his grip to the floor. It lands with a soft thud on the shitty, floral rug they bought last semester at discount.

“Helping,” Jongdae says with a shrug. Baekhyun glares at him. Jongdae glares back. They glare in silence, neither wavering till a soft knock comes from their door.

“Come in,” Jongdae hollers, flipping Baekhyun off and plucking his phone off the floor.

“Uhm, hey guys,” Jongin says as he walks in. He’s not wearing shoes and his hair’s sticking up in the back. He’s probably been awake for hours and never bothered to get out of bed till now. Baekhyun respects that. Baekhyun wants that. 

“Morning,” Baekhyun and Jongdae greet in unison. Jongdae waves Jongin over, patting his bed for their friend to sit. He does, pulling his knees to his chest, eyes expectant.  
“So?” Jongin asks, looking between his friends. Baekhyun kicks Jongdae in the shin, who’s smiling stupidly and not saying anything.

“We’re gathered here today,” Baekhyun kicks him again “-ow, fuck off and let me have this. To discuss our dearest Baekhyun’s love life.”

“Is this about Chanyeol?” Jongin asks, he sounds too okay with all of this. Baekhyun wants to die, so he does. He slides off his bed onto the floor and lies halfway on the rug, star-fished. He stares up at their ceiling, there’s a pencil sticking out of it and he didn’t know it was up there. Weird.

“Uh, duh,” Jongdae says, resting his feet on Baekhyun’s chest. “I think Baekhyun, here, should apologize for, y’know, being an asshole and probably ruining his childhood self-esteem.”

“He didn’t have much self-esteem for me to ruin,” Baekhyun mutters. His friends look down at him, literally and emotionally. 

“Those are the words of a bully, Baek,” Jongdae says. His eyes are wide, and Baekhyun can’t blame him. It’s weird hearing himself talk like that. He’s not a bully. Hasn’t been for a while, at least.

Baekhyun groans and covers his eyes with his arm. “Sorry.” His voice is muffled. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

His best friend pats him consolingly with his foot. “Well, you liked him, right?”

“A lot,” Baekhyun says. A boy with a chubby face and glasses smiles in Baekhyun’s head and his stomach fills with nostalgic butterflies. Then he changes to the man with black, slicked back hair looking down at him with bruised lips and the butterflies start to hurt.

“We just need to get him to understand that. Sexuality is hard and confusing at such a young age and blah, blah, blah. He’ll get over the trauma and maybe even let you suck his dick properly.”

“I really want to suck his dick.” Baekhyun’s cheeks burn. It’s true. The forgotten first love had been replaced with lust for the man he’d danced with. He didn’t like him, he didn’t know him, but goddamn if he couldn’t admit that he wanted to fuck him.


	3. Gagged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sehun's weak. Baekhyun's persistent. Chanyeol's angry. 
> 
> Special appearance from our beloved bartender.

It’s six in the morning when Chanyeol gets the call. It’s dark in his dorm, not pitch black but the early morning, dark blue that means the sun hasn’t peaked through the bottom of his curtains yet. Sehun’s still snoring softly under a pile of laundry, but he jolts too when Chanyeol’s phone starts screaming. Literally.

“Oh, fuck.” Chanyeol yelps as he almost falls out of bed, reaching for his phone blindly. The sound of the goat in that Taylor Swift meme from forever ago bouncing around their walls.

“Shut it off, shut it off, shut it off,” Sehun says, pathetically trying to pull a semi-clean hoodie over his ears. Chanyeol yanks his phone off his desk, pulling the chord with it as he answers.

“What?” he snaps, hoarse from sleep. He can barely see, he shouldn’t be talking on the phone, or _awake._

 _“Oh, uhm, hey Chanyeol. Did I wake you?”_ A voice he doesn’t recognize crackles over the speakers, but, for some godforsaken reason, he doesn’t hang up.

“It’s five in the morning.” The dude, he thinks it’s a dude – it sounds stereotypically masculine-, laughs haltingly.

_“Oh, so it is. Sorry, I was at the theatre till late, or, uh, early? I got nervous and I figured what better time to call you than the present-”_

“Let me stop you right there,” Chanyeol says, a little too loudly from the way Sehun hisses at him. “Who is this? Why are you calling me?”

The guy over the phone stays silent. Chanyeol pulls the phone away from his face to look at the time before groaning and putting it back to his ear. The line is still silent, and he almost hangs up before the caller finally speaks.

_“I wanted to apologize.”_

“For waking me up four hours before my alarm?”

_“Well, no, but now that you mention it. Sorry ‘bout that. It’s Baekhyun.”_

Chanyeol didn’t even grace that with an answer and hangs up. He rolls over, shoves his face into the pillows, and lets his phone get lost within the covers. That can’t have been real, and if it was then he’ll deal with it after a couple more hours of sleep.

 

The second time Chanyeol wakes up for the day doesn’t feel real, well, the first time didn’t feel very real either. The curtains are still closed and the light is still off, but it’s brighter. Sehun’s shuffling around the room, not quiet but not loud, just there.

“You need to change your ringtone,” Sehun says when he realizes Chanyeol’s awake and staring blankly at the ceiling. “Maybe to something soft and relaxing. I think I had a legit heart attack last night.”

“Wasn’t last night,” Chanyeol says. He hasn’t moved, even though he should start getting ready for class. It’s warm.

“What?”

“Wasn’t last night,” Chanyeol repeats, louder. “It was at the ass-crack of dawn.”

Sehun shudders and turns back to his bed to continue digging for a pair of pants. He doesn’t ask Chanyeol who called, but the question lingers in the air.

“It was Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says, pulling himself out of his too-hot bed and starts digging for his phone. When he finds it at the bottom of the bed there are tons of message notifications from an unknown number.

“You’re joking. Byun Baekhyun called you? Like evil, ex-best friend that was horny for you at the club a couple nights ago, Baekhyun?”

“Yep,” Chanyeol says. “And he texted me a bunch too, after I hung up.”

“Oh my god,” Sehun says as he abandons his pants to look at Chanyeol’s phone screen.

 

**Unknown:**

hey srry bout calliin u so early i didnt think _05:09_

but im serious _05:09_

im sorry for all of yknow everything _05:09_

like for being a duck to u when we were little n then for all of saturday n stuff _05:10_

*dick _05:10_

ur totally asleep but i was hoping we could do something together? like ill buy u coffee or something to make up for being a dweeb if u want to ofc _05:25_

ill text u later? _05:27_

 

“Wow, that’s…” Sehun taps his chin as he tries to find the right words.

“Desperate?” Chanyeol supplies, leaving his phone with his roommate.

“I was going to say nice,” Sehun says as Chanyeol disappears into the bathroom.

“Nice is just the _nice_ way to say desperate.”

 

Despite what he might’ve told Sehun, Chanyeol can’t stop thinking or looking at the notification bubbles Baekhyun’s messages all day. It’s not making sense. They don’t feel real. He rereads them again, the typos, the question in the last text. Baekhyun seemed normal, casual, _civil_ , and that’s what Chanyeol can’t wrap his head around. He was horrible the last time they saw each other seven years ago, when they were almost 15, and now he’s acting like nothing happened. Well, not nothing if he wants to apologize in the first place.

“Fucking ridiculous.” Chanyeol locks his phone aggressively, slamming it down on his desk. The classmates near him flinch from where they were falling asleep or taking notes. They glare at him, but his guilt and apologetic looks don’t last long, not with thoughts of the chipping, black nail polish on Baekhyun’s hand when it was wrapped around his- nope. Nope, no, nuh-uh. Chanyeol shivers and he clenches his teeth. No hate-boner in class. Not today. Focus on the lecture, the professor at front, and whatever the hell he’s been saying.

It doesn’t last very long. The intense focus on focusing blurs the professor’s words, they bounce over Chanyeol and into oblivion. His mind is a battle against time and daydreams of bathroom blowjobs. Barely any time has passed at all as he glances at the clock above the professor’s head.

Those damn apologies. Chanyeol flicks on his phone, class is over he doesn’t really have anything to stop him now, the messages from Baekhyun are still there. He hasn’t opened them yet. He knows once he does, he’ll have to do _something_. Something. Nothing. Everything. He grips the phone a little tighter, glancing at his professor talking about who-knows-what then back at the message blurbs.

“Fuck it,” he mutters under his breath. The kid next to him furiously scribbling notes lets out a half-chuckle. Chanyeol doesn’t notice. He’s more focused on the sick feeling in his stomach.

Pulling up the messages is easier than he thinks, it’s just an app, a couple taps, but when _seen_ pops up under Baekhyun’s texts he knows he can’t turn back.

 

**Chanyeol:**

_10:24_ What are you doing?

 

The reply is instant, Chanyeol’s phone chimes in his hand and he almost drops it trying to switch it to vibrate. It chimes a couple more times and the kid next to him sighs. Chanyeol’s phone vibrates with one last message. Baekhyun obviously isn’t afraid to double text. Four messages. Short, choppy, annoying.

 

**Unknown:**

huh? _10:24_

im doing a costume run _10:24_

oh wait is that what u meant? _10:25_

like what am I doing rn?? _10:25_

 

**Chanyeol:**

_10:27_ No. I don’t care about that at all. Why are you talking to me?

 

Chanyeol nods, satisfied with his response. Keep it straight forward -no emotion. Baekhyun doesn’t respond right away. Seconds, then minutes pass, nothing. Class ends without Chanyeol taking proper notes and his next one starts with still no response. He manages to pay attention this time, his phone shoved into his backpack with a scoff. He hasn’t thought about Baekhyun this much in years; there was no reason to start now.

Class ends. Chanyeol’s packing up his stuff when his phone vibrates, rustling the pens and papers scattered at the bottom of his bag. Sehun’s contact picture, one of him very close to the camera nostrils flared and hair slicked back with too much gel, covers his screen.

“Hey, what’s up?” Chanyeol answers, squishing the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he finishes zipping his bag.

 _“Don’t be mad,”_ Sehun says, it’s hard to tell over the phone, but he sounds guilty.

“What did you do?” Chanyeol asks, highly suspicious. Sehun never apologized for things, or worried about making Chanyeol mad unless it was really, _really_ bad.

_“Well, Baekhyun found me earlier-”_

“What?” Chanyeol flinches, halfway down the steps of the lecture hall. Dread lines his stomach. The last of his classmates shoulder past him and out.

 _“He had me cornered. You know I don’t do well under pressure. He’s little, but he’s scary,”_ Sehun whines over the phone. Dodging the explanation does nothing for the sour taste in Chanyeol’s mouth.

“Sehun, shut up.” His friend falls silent. “What did you do?” Chanyeol asks slowly, enunciating each word. He knows his anger is palpable; he just hopes his fear isn’t.

_“I told Baekhyun when your break was and where to find you.”_

“You didn’t,” Chanyeol says, stopping with his hand on the doorknob.

He bends to look through the gridded door window, leaning on the wall opposite is a blurry, slim guy with black hair. He looks up Chanyeol meets eyes with Baekhyun. He ducked away from sight, leaning his head on the cool wood next to the glass.

“You totally did.” He hangs up on Sehun’s apology. He pulls his headphones over his ears, turning his music on and up to full volume.

Chanyeol opens the door, looks at Baekhyun’s hopeful smile, and walks away. He feels suddenly grateful for his long legs in ways he hasn’t before. The hand on his arm is unexpected, and when it tugs sharply, he stumbles. Baekhyun’s holding onto him; small and furious. His mouth’s moving rapidly, his hands flying.

“Stop, stop. I can’t hear you,” Chanyeol says, straightening and pulling his headphones down to hang around his neck. He raises his eyebrows at Baekhyun, a gesture for him to continue.

Baekhyun huffs. “Where are you going?”

“To lunch,” Chanyeol says, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

“You know what I mean. Why are you running away from me?”

“Oh, my bad,” Chanyeol starts and Baekhyun’s grin reappears. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

With that it drops. Baekhyun looks shocked.

“Wh- I…Why?”

Chanyeol laughs, startling the other man.

“Why would I? Because you’re gay now? Because you’re hot? Because we have a past? Well, news flash Byun Baekhyun, that past isn’t great. Kinda shitty actually. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to walk away.” And he does.

Baekhyun doesn’t follow. Chanyeol can’t head the tapping of his shoes, and he thinks that if he looks behind him Baekhyun will be in the same spot. The pride that flares in Chanyeol’s ribcage is warm, but bitter.

He figured that would be the end. Baekhyun would disappear to whatever side of campus he belonged to, Chanyeol would bandage the reopened wounds, and that was it. No encore. No epilogue. Nothing.

That doesn’t happen.

Baekhyun’s changed a lot since their childhood, but he’s still as persistent as ever. The next day Baekhyun is standing outside his class. Chanyeol walks away. The day after that Baekhyun waits; Chanyeol dodges, and on it goes.

 

“I’m losing my mind.”

Chanyeol says, face pressed against the fabric of Minseok’s satin jacket. They’re at the library on the east side of campus, close enough to Minseok’s musical theory classes for him to come to and from and far enough from Chanyeol’s own that Baekhyun hopefully wouldn’t find him. Chanyeol sits behind Minseok in a beanbag, his long legs stretched around his older friend.

“Hmm? Why?” Minseok asks, his hands typing away furiously on his laptop. He’d told Chanyeol that if he wanted to stay with him at the library, he needed to be quiet. Chanyeol had tried his best. Bit his lip, kept his legs from bouncing, did some of his own homework, but it didn’t last. Baekhyun is driving him up a wall, and he needs some one to talk to that wasn’t the Betrayer. (His new nickname for Sehun since he’d told _Baekhyun_ his _schedule_ ).

“Well, remember that night at the club,” Chanyeol starts, burrowing his face in the space between Minseok’s shoulder and neck.

“You have to be more specific, Yeolie.”

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says, muffled.

“Ah, yeah I’ve heard about all your drama with him,” Minseok says, finally putting his laptop down and patting his friend’s fluffy and recently-dyed, red hair.

“Who told you?” Chanyeol’s tone is lamenting, like he’s given up on ever having peace in his life again.

“Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol leaps up, startling Minseok into falling backwards onto the beanbag. Chanyeol screeches something incoherent, arms waving and ears burning. Minseok lies, dazed, staring at the ceiling until his shoulders shake with laughter.

“Oh, my fucking- what do you mean Baekhyun told you about our _drama_?” He says, hands failing to gesture with his words.

“I mean,” Minseok says, catching his breath. “He told me about your stint back in elementary school, that he sucked you dick in the bathroom at the club, and that you’ve been avoiding him like the plague.”

Chanyeol gapes, eyes wide and jaw loose, his shoulders dropped low. It takes a minute for him to process, to really understand what it means that Baekhyun had been talking to Minseok, but when he does fire fills his veins.

“Oh? What did Byun Baekhyun have to say about our time as kids?” Chanyeol’s voice is dripping with venom, a venom he doesn’t think Minseok's ever heard from him. Chanyeol’s a pretty decent, cheerful guy. It’s rare to see him angry, much less to see him poisonous.

“Well, he said you used to be friends.” Minseok starts, slowly, testing the waters. “Then, you had a falling out a few years before middle school and you didn’t really talk much. He hadn’t seen you since you were shorter than him, till the club.”

“I see.” Chanyeol sounds like he’s choking down something nasty. He rolls his shoulders, walks a few feet away, back tense and facing Minseok.

“A falling out, what, ten years ago doesn’t seem like a reason to give him the silent treatment,” Minseok says, his eyes back on his laptop.

“A falling out.” Chanyeol repeats. Minseok hums.

“He used to call me Piggy,” Chanyeol says, his back still turned. “He would steal my glasses, hide them, break them. My mom had to keep buying replacements. I’d go all day missing notes and teachers would yell at me for having to repeat themselves. ”

“Wha-” Minseok starts, but Chanyeol continues on.

“He’d shove me, trip me, trash my homework, throw my lunch on the floor. It wasn’t just him either. The other boys in class would follow his lead, throw shit at me and call me names, the girls wouldn’t even talk to me. If I tried to talk to _them_ ,” He breaks off to laugh, harsh and clipped. “They’d laugh in my face.”

“Chanyeol,” Minseok says, sadly. He walks to his friend, a gentle hand coming to rest on Chanyeol’s back.

“The only friend I made since Baekhyun _turned_ on me was Sehun. Want to know how we started talking?” His hands are trembling, his jaw tight. “We both were hiding outside in the dead of winter because it was the only safe place to eat lunch. Baek used to call Sehun a faggot, throw rocks at him. Isn’t that ironic?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Damn right you don’t,” Chanyeol says, clearing his throat and turning to face Minseok. “We used to be best friends, I-I,” he takes a breath. “I loved him, Minseok. Probably in a way I shouldn’t have at that age, but I did. He treated me like trash anyways. I never knew why. I always thought that he might’ve found out how I felt, but he never said anything. Never insulted my sexuality.”

Minseok looks up at Chanyeol with sad eyes. Chanyeol doesn’t know how to react to that expression. He’s so angry, but it feels good to let Minseok know about some of the darkest times of his young life.

“I know it won’t help, but he’s not like that anymore, Yeolie. I don’t know why he did the things he did to you and Sehun. But the Baekhyun I know is kind, funny, a little shit sometimes but he’s _good_ ,” Minseok says. Chanyeol shakes his head.

“To you, maybe. I don’t think I’ll ever see it.” Chanyeol sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. He needed to get away from this conversation, from all the memories of Baekhyun that were climbing over his walls. “I’ll see you later, Minseok.”

Chanyeol pulls his guitar case over his shoulder and walks down the curling stairs of the library and out the door. Behind the shelves to the left of Minseok and Chanyeol, Byun Baekhyun stands with his hand clasped tightly around book he’d been looking for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow such a long wait for not much substance, huh? hope you enjoy anyways :D


End file.
